We've No Morals Here
by Abluvion
Summary: Sansa Stark fears only the worst after her fathers beheading, and her situation only gets worse as Joffrey seeks pleasure from her torment. Sansa Stark/Joffrey Baratheon
1. Chapter 1

This is based on the Television series, as I have yet to read the novels. I own nothing!

Sansa Stark/Joffrey Baratheon

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><p>Sansa Stark awoke in her chambers earlier than usual, troubled thoughts had kept her up throughout the night, her thoughts drifting back to her father's beheading and Joffrey's cruel words.<p>

"I'll tell you what. I'm going to give you a present. After I raise my armies, and kill your traitor brother, I'll give you his head as well."

His words echoed in her mind, and she shivered at his cold demeanour. She, however, regretted her retort, as it had caused her to be hit, twice.

"Or maybe he'll give me _yours_."

Her sweet prince had turned out to be cruel, just like his mother. She had been tempted to push him over the edge of the bridge, but she had been stopped by Sandor. She would've been surely beheaded as her father was for doing this, so she had not tried since then.

It had been four days since then, all of which she had spent in her chambers, refusing to leave, but she could tell Joffrey was angered by her denial to him. Today would be the day, the day she'd stand quietly by his side, following his every word, she'd be his lady, and treat him like a king.

She dragged herself out of her bed, and fetched a servant to pour her a bath. She would make herself presentable, as she needed to look to be worthy to be by Joffrey's side. She sat patiently, waiting for her bath to pour when there was a banging at her door, and she pulled her sheer night gown tighter to her body as she reached the door.

"Who is it?"

Her voice shook, and she frowned at how weak she sounded.

"It is I, your king, my lady."

He was annoyed with her; she could hear it in his tone. So as to stop herself from being beaten she clenched the door handle and opened it to her king. He strode into her room, examining her body with his eyes, Sansa realizing at once that her body was only hidden by a sheer and rather clinging night gown. Her cheeks became flushed as he stepped closer, raising a hand to her cheek. Her hair was hanging loosely around her pale face; her cheeks flushed a bright red as her vivid blue eyes followed his every move. He first placed his hand on her waist, and removing his other hand from her cheek, closed the door, pushing her ever so gently against it. He had a habit of being gentle in the worst possible ways, tricking her into believing he was something he was not.

He bent her face up towards his and kissed her, gently at first, then becoming rougher and rougher as she tried to squirm away. Sansa accepting defeat, placed her hands on his face, kissed him back with all her might as tears streamed down her face. Oh, what a fool she had been to think he would leave her alone once her father was beheaded. This went on for several more minutes until he was pleased, he let go of her abruptly and whispered softly in her ear.

"I will have you, and if you don't comply, it'll be ever the more painful for you, my lady."

Joffrey then caressed her cheek once more and left her chambers. Sansa slipped down to the ground, feeling utterly useless, if she did not please him, he would dispose of her. She felt like a toy, something there for his own pleasure, to play with when he was angered, or bored. He was a cruel king, and used death as a punishment for the silliest of things.

Sansa picked herself up off the ground a few moments later, letting her gown fall to the stone floor. She walked slowly to the adjoined room where the bath was held. She stepped in and let her head go under the water, and as the water surrounded her she cried, her sobs masked by the water.

She had never felt more alone and frightened than she did at that moment.


	2. Chapter 2

Based on the Television series as I have not read the novels - I own nothing!

Sansa Stark/Joffrey Baratheon with a little itty bitty bit of Sandor (The Hound)/Sansa Stark

I've been on a Game of Thrones high the past few days, I finished Season 1 in two days! So i decided to write a fic and now I cant stop. I know a lot of people hate Joffrey, probably the whole fandom, and I know he's absolutely awful, but why cant I give him a method to his madness? So, I've created a second side to Joffrey, a less evil side that he only shows Sansa, granted he's still absolutely awful, but at least he's not as cruel to Sansa, his bride to be.

So read/review please!

:)

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><p>Sansa looked up from her stitch work to look out her window over the land, the land that belonged to her king. It wasn't as endearing as it had once been to her, so inviting, so promising. She wanted happiness, not suffering and fright. She was most scared of Joffrey, not from knowing what he could do to her, but of her feelings for him. She still felt something for him, the same feelings she had when he gifted her with the beautiful necklace that adorned her slender neck, or when he touched her face so softly and kissed her, ever so gently.<p>

Sometimes when she appeared truly sad in front of him, he would run his hand along her, kiss her cheek, or make a point to stop whatever was upsetting her; completely unaware that he was the only person who could make her quiver in fear. This was what conflicted her thoughts the most; she could both hate and love someone so vile, yet so caring, but also twisted. He wasn't a kind king, but he was kinder behind closed door. Not enough to believe that he could feel empathy, but that he wasn't as cruel as his mother tried to make him.

The wicked witch, as Sansa called her in her dreams.

"Little dove."

Joffreys mother called her such a sweet name, but doves were never meant to be caged; they were too beautiful and symbolized something wonderful, something that would not come.

Peace.

Sansa placed her stitching down beside her as she felt a great pain in her stomach; gripping her gown tightly, she ran to her chambers. There, she whimpered in pain, curled into a tight ball atop her sheets and quietly feared what Joffrey desired; her first blood.

This would then grant Joffrey to put a child inside her, an heir to the Iron Throne, and to be the second of the Baratheon name to take that throne. She was scared for this, because they'd first have to have a public wedding, so as to not have a bastard take the Iron Throne. She wasn't prepared for this, to show affection for Joffrey in front of thousands. His people already hated him, but they'd turn on her as well, to know she loved a cruel, cruel man. If you could call him that, he was but 13, Sansa but 14.

She was requested to dine with Joffrey later that evening in the grand hall, so she checked herself for any sign of blood, and when none appeared she stripped herself and put on a much more elaborate gown. An emerald gown adorned with silver stitching and sparkling jewels to match her soon to be husband's cold, emerald eyes.

She strode out of her room quietly, heading to the grand hall. On her way she noticed Sandor walking alone, and sped up to reach him.

"How come you're not with Joffrey?"

He grunted some sort of reply, but Sansa already knew the answer. The Hound was looking out for her, making sure she went to the feast so she wouldn't be beaten. He was an interesting character, always looking out for her, making sure she didn't disobey any orders.

They reached the grand hall and Sansa looked up to meet Sandor's eyes, who made a slight nod of his head before opening the door for her. The room became quiet when she entered, and Joffrey looked up from the head chair to meet Sansa's eyes. There was a second chair placed closer to Joffreys then the rest and it was obvious that it was hers to take. Clutching part of her gown she walked the length of the hall to her chair, Sandor following closely behind. Instead of Joffrey pulling out her chair like a gentleman, he sat there and watched intently as Sandor pulled out the chair for Sansa.

"My Grace."

She curtsied for him before seating herself, and she then looked out across the table at the grand feast. She was repulsed by how ill-mannered many of the men were, and Sansa noticed that Joffreys mother was nowhere to be seen.

Putting how strange this was out of her mind, she began to pick at her food, eating little pieces here and there. As the feast was being cleared away Joffrey stood in front of his people and proposed a toast. A toast to his and Sansa's future together. This was their announcement, and he hadn't told her that he was marrying her. They were only betrothed, in favour of marriage. But Sansa went along with it, knowing Joffrey would come speak to her about it later, seeking something else as well.


	3. Authors Note

I apologize to those of you who are following this story and have been asking me to continue it. I've been stuck in between something of a rock and a hard place, so I've decided to give up a lot of my fics that I just don't have the effort to write anymore. I don't really like this story particularly anymore, but I hope you'll stick around, as I'm planning to write new fics with these characters in a few weeks (after my final exams). –Sarah (abluvion)


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